Couldn't
by the.woods
Summary: Their last talk left them in ruins. She lashed out at him for helping Faith, while he lashed out at her for moving on. A different look [and ending] at things from Angel's POV. [BA]


TITLE: Couldn't

FEEDBACK: -looks around- Do I really have to answer this?

DISTRIBUTE: Credit and tell me where its going :D

AUTHOR: never look back

SUMMARY: Re-take on Angel and Buffy's talk at the end of "Sanctuary"…pure angst.

DISCLAIMER: Cue 'dreamy-sigh sequence' in three, two, one…

**AN: changed a few things. Nothing major; re-wording, yadda yadda yadda**…

* * *

Angel tried to tell himself it was over. All of it.

He tried to erase all the drama between Faith, between Buffy…it should have been settled. Settled, buried, and put to rest, like any spirit deserves.

But that was just a lie that couldn't even protect his insecurities, couldn't even bandage his reopened wounds.

Couldn't. What a word. A word that seemed to spread like the plague throughout people, throughout himself and Buffy, even. The two warriors of the world. Supposedly. At this point, the world was doomed. She couldn't even look at him. She couldn't even look into his eyes. And still worse - he couldn't, either.

She opened the conversation. She always had. "You should have told me what was going on," she said, a small amount of sadness tinting her voice. He couldn't miss it. He could never miss it.

"I didn't…" his thoughts faltered as he looked to the ground. "I didn't think it was your business."

Her eyes roll in disbelief.

How did things get so bad?

He felt the anger rising, the tension multiplying as she took a step or two closer to him - not in the loving way; an intimidating way. "Not my business?"

"I needed more time with Faith," he answered without a pause. Finally his eyes reach hers, and there was nothing left but misunderstandings and painful histories. "I'm not sure - "

She interrupts. "You needed…" He snaps his head up, staring at her with eyes that dared her to finish. _'You needed me.'_ How far away from the truth would that be? She doesn't finish…she couldn't. "Do you have _any_ idea what it was like for me to see you with her?"

He swallows while disgust fills her words, her atmosphere, overruling the love that once resided in her mind, her heart - or at least, what he hoped had been there. Her hate for Faith traveled deeper than her love for him. It caused a bitter shadow to grow in his being. "That you went behind my back - "

"Buffy, this wasn't about you." It was his turn to cut her off, and the irritation was only edging him on. How was she able to turn this into a guilt trip on him? Her uncharacteristic selfishness worried him, but the anger built as he realized that she didn't - couldn't - understand the importance of the matter. It went beyond them, beyond what they once had, and she couldn't hold him responsible for that.

"This was about saving somebody's soul," he continued. "That's what I do here, and you're not a part of it." Silence greeted him, and he hoped she understood. "That was your idea, remember? We stay away from each other."

She blinks. "I came here because you were in danger."

Once more with the innocence act. The head trip was killing him. Reaching the ground of understanding wasn't an option, anymore. She was too far in her hate. "I'm in danger every day," he answers, a barely audible crack in his speech as unwanted emotions get thrown into the mix. She wasn't in this for him, for their love - or whatever remains of it. He has realized this long before, and now it's time she realized it, as well. "You came because of Faith. You were looking for vengeance."

"I have a right to it."

"Not in my city." His voice is cold, his stare unwavering. She is taken back - he can sense it. She looks away for a moment, trying to regain herself. After balling up her fists at her side, she continues.

"I have someone in my life now." She is steady. He knows what is to come. It's another part in the selfish-act routine. He should hate her - he should - but he can't. He couldn't. He looks away as she goes on, prolonging the torture. "Someone that I love." He takes a harsher swallow, still not looking at her. He couldn't hate her. "It's not what you and I had…It's very new."

She takes another step closer. He feels himself breaking, gradually crumbling on the inside. And the worse part is there's more to come.

"You know what makes it new?" He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to; he's sure she'll fill him in. "I trust him. I **know** him."

His stance falters at her words. She was trying to hurt him; hurt him like he supposedly hurt her. She couldn't grasp the fact that Faith was never a love interest of his. She couldn't understand that he didn't kiss her - couldn't **really** kiss her - when they had planned against the Mayor so long ago.

He lets out a sharp breath, her hurtful words stinging him more than it should. Far more than anyone should be able to. He was a vampire; she was just a girl in his eyes. Just a girl; nothing more - and another lie that couldn't stretch far enough to trick him.

"That's great," he manages to spit out. "It's nice…you moved on. I **can't**." It was true - he couldn't. His words rise in volume at the thought; that he was still brooding over her when she wanted nothing to do with him. "You found someone new. I'm not allowed to, remember?" His sarcastic edge is new to her. It's ironic, really - neither knew the other, anymore.

He stands, towering over her. Leaning on the table behind him only makes him smaller. "I see you, **again**," he starts, "and it cuts me up inside. The person I share that with is me!" He's angry now, and she can tell she's hit a sore spot. He can't tell if she's happy about that or not.

"You don't know me anymore." His angry face inches towards hers. "Don't come down here with your great new life and **expect** me to do things your way." His eyes are slits, glaring into her furious face. "Go home."

She looks at him for a moment. What does she want? She tries to search his eyes for something, some sort of understanding, but there's nothing left. He knows because it was the same for him - a flame of love now gone, long due for it's rekindling. She walks past him, going for her jacket as he consciously questions his motives in his mind. He was falling into the trap: guilt and brooding, all over the same girl. Walking over to the wall, he rests his hands against it before looking down in defeat. Where did they go wrong? Did an entire summer (including a month or so) really pass them by, causing them to…forget? They couldn't - he couldn't -

"See?" She is speaking, but he doesn't look at her. "Faith wins again."

He glances up at the wall. There is a double meaning in her words, he realizes, but he is unable to grasp it. His voice is calm, calmer than expected as he answers with a single word.

"Go."

He hears her shoes click down the stairs, fading softly away, and after a moment, he slams his hands against the wall in disappointment. With a sigh, he leans against the wall and places a hand on his waist, wondering what just happened.

"You all right?" Wesley's voice brings him back.

"For a taciturn, shadowy guy," he answers, "I've got a big mouth."

After a concise pause, Wesley asks, "do you want to go after her?"

He nods, looking at the ground. "Yes." It's an answer laced with conviction, and Wesley's heart goes out for the two. Angel takes a shaky breath, an unnecessary breath, and tries to regain his composure.  
"I don't know how much my opinion counts for," Wesley states, "but…I think you did the right thing."

"Yelling at Buffy?" he questions skeptically.

"No," his friend answers softly.

He doesn't get a chance to finish as Angel's emotional wall breaks down. He sighs and looks up at the wall. "Where did we go wrong?"

"Time does that to people," he replies carefully.

Angel's eyes flicker to Wesley's for an instant. He couldn't know - only him. The secret rests and dies with him. The day that couldn't - shouldn't - have been.

He whispers for an unknown reason. "I…I can't," he manages to choke out. "I've got to find her. I've got to…"

"Go."

Wesley watches as his friend races down the stairs after sending him a sorrow-filled look. Angel's only goal is finding her, making things right again. He didn't even bother to ask her where she was staying when she came. Were they that angry at each other? He realized her car must have still been parked in front of the AI office. She couldn't leave just yet.

He wouldn't let her go again.

He couldn't.

* * *

...end? 


End file.
